


On Such a Winter's Day

by femmenoire



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmenoire/pseuds/femmenoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble: Steve and Sam bond through music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Such a Winter's Day

Sam’s music collection was impressive. Even Steve could recognize that. 

And even Steve could see that his collection was more than just a connoisseur’s taste. Music was how Sam coped. 

His collection, physical and digital, was alphabetized by year and genre, with tailored collections by subject, mood, and even influence. 

Sam was a practical man. He was a soldier. He was meticulous. 

“So what would you recommend?” Steve had rehearsed the question on the drive over. He wasn’t nervous so much as careful. He didn’t want to get too personal, but he didn’t want to seem standoffish either. 

“Depends on your mood.” Sam had practiced this answer. He figured it would be the first thing out of Cap’s mouth. To be honest he had a million recommendations: music, film, literature, even travel if Steve ever got the time. But Sam didn’t want to overwhelm him. Steve was a man out of time. And, more importantly, he was a soldier still struggling to adjust. He might have fooled everyone else, but Sam could see the signs. He would handle Cap with the care and respect he deserved. 

Steve smiled wryly. Sam noted that it didn’t suit him. 

“My mood,” Steve said under his breath. “Even I’m not sure.”

Sam let a moment pass before he answered. “I’ve got the perfect song for that.”

“Oh yea? What?”

“California Dreamin’.”

Steve laughed, wondering if Sam wasn’t as prescient as he’d thought. “The Mamas and the Papas? I've listened to all their albums. Not exactly what I would have chosen.” Steve turned to look out of the living room window. He watched a woman dart from her car to her front door with a newspaper over her head to shield her freshly straightened hair from the rain. 

Sam chuckled, his eyes trained on the back of Steve’s head. “Not that version. Bobby Womack. Was he on your list?”

Steve turned around, his eyes meeting Sam’s across the room. “Never heard of him.”

“Didn’t think so. Have a seat. What about Isaac Hayes? He on that list of yours,” Sam asked, pulling a stack of records from his shelves. 

“He was not,” Steve replied, his eyes trained on Sam’s profile. “I’ll write their names down tho-”

“No need,” Sam interrupted. “Once I play some tracks for you... You’ll never forget.”

Steve wasn’t necessarily looking for a friend. 

Sam had enough cases on his desk. 

Neither had space for someone new. 

But that’s the thing about life; it gives you the people you need, not necessarily the ones you seek. 

Steve and Sam weren’t looking for anyone in particular. But they were more than thankful they’d found each other.


End file.
